


Sobering Up

by CuriosityRedux



Series: Dragon Drabbles Modern [3]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Hiccstrid - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 21:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16751662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriosityRedux/pseuds/CuriosityRedux
Summary: Hiccup realizes he might have made a mistake.





	Sobering Up

**Sobering Up**

**-**

Sink water has never tasted better. It’s got a faint metallic hint, and it’s a little warm, but Hiccup drinks until his stomach hurts. His head is tilted under the faucet, water splattering down his chin and throat. He wills it to go straight into his bloodstream, to his liver, so it can thin out the whiskey that keeps churning in his gut. 

The house is quiet. It can’t be too long before dawn, and almost everyone has found a place in Snotlout’s house to pass out. All except for Eret and Tuffnut, who are eating cereal and watching cartoons in the living room, blocking Hiccup’s access to the kitchen. He  _could_  walk past them for a glass and filtered water, but he might have to talk to them about who’s unconscious in the room he’d just left. So that’s a no.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his arm, eyes lifting to the mirror. There’s still a tilt to the floor, like he’s aboard a boat on choppy waves, but he’s slept off enough that he can stay upright without getting dizzy. 

Lifting a hand to his bare chest, he presses his palm against his heart. It hasn’t stopped pounding since he woke up half sobered, with Astrid curled up against him. Her hair splayed out like spun silk against the pillow, her fingers wrapped loosely around his arm. She looked like some mythical creature, glowing in the blueish light from the open laptop on the desk. 

It wasn’t like in the movies, where characters black out and wake up the next morning not remembering a thing. He remembered  _everything_. Uncontrollable giggling while she poured more and more Jack Daniels into his Coke. Climbing under the covers of the guest bed and pretending they were kids building forts again. Drunkenly debating the pros and cons of breathing while they frantically kissed. There was a blur to it all, but he remembered everything from beginning to end.

It was his memories that drove him to the bathroom. That, and feeling like his bladder might burst at any moment. Now he’s trapped by everything in his head, like the sound of her whispered laughter and the taste of cold soda on her tongue. 

Hiccup takes a wobbly step back and sits on the edge of the bathtub. The chill feels good, grounding. 

“Don’t you miss being little?” She’d asked conspiratorially, with a slur to her words and the blanket pulled tight over their heads. “When everything was fun and there wasn’t so much pressure?”

“You’re telling me you’re not having fun?” he’d deadpanned, knowing it would make her laugh. And sure enough, she exploded into another round of giggles. 

“No! You know I am!” He could feel the warmth of her breath against his face despite the already stifling temperature in their makeshift fort. “That’s what I’m saying, I  _always_  have fun with you _.”_ She dropped her head against the pillow dramatically. “Nobody jokes around with me like you do. They all think I’m stuck up or a bitch.”

Despite the smile in her voice, Hiccup knew what she meant and how she felt about it. As long as he’s known her, Astrid’s had the tendency to throw herself into her passions. She didn’t just want to be on the soccer team, she wanted the captain spot. She didn’t just run for student council, she wanted to be president. She doesn’t do things halfway. She takes herself seriously, and sometimes that comes off as conceited or overbearing. 

“They just don’t know what to make of you,” he told her. “You’re very intense.” Hiccup made a face with a scrunched forehead and a pursed mouth to match his words. He felt like he had to whisper in the sanctity of their private little world. “I’m the only one who knows what a secret nerd you are.”

Thoughtfully tapping her chin, she nodded. “You’re the only person other than my mom I’ve cried in front of. Oh, and you’re the only one I’ll wear my retainer in front of because of my–”

“Because of your lisp,” he finished for her, and they both laughed. It was funny in the way things can only be under the influence of alcohol. 

“I guess it’s cause you’re– like– the opposite of me.” Astrid tucked a hand under her chin. “You get along with everybody. And you don’t try that hard to impress people or care what they think.”

“Are you kidding me?” His brows shot up. “I try  _so_  hard! All the time!”

She found that hilarious. He found her laughter– loud and unbridled– to be enchanting.

“I just trust you.” Her fingers reached over and scratched at his scruffy jawline. “I don’t know how or why, but… I do.”

It gets a little fuzzy after that. He remembers telling her how perfect she was, and he vaguely recalls her murmuring something about how happy she was with him. 

He’s not sure if she kissed him first, or if whiskey gave him the guts to do it. But he remembers the electricity that triggered all over his body the second their mouths touched. His heart races just thinking about it. It was just a kiss– and then another– and then they were pressing against each other like it would take an act of God to pry them apart. 

Hiccup’s hands tighten on the sides of the bathtub. Sure, he’s thought about kissing her before. She’s beautiful. But he’d never imagined she’d hold onto him so tightly, that she’d moan his name while he traced his lips down her throat. Even drunk, he couldn’t have predicted her taking his hands and guiding them under her shirt. 

Maybe it just doesn’t compute. That a girl as pretty and driven as Astrid would be genuinely attracted to a one-legged slacker like himself. They’re friends. Great friends. Maybe best friends. But is that all she wants from him? 

Every minute, every breath that passed, he told himself he would stop when she did. He would let go when she told him to. He would apologize– because surely she didn’t crave him as badly as he craved her? 

But she never did. She asked for more in every way possible– with her words, with her hands, with the way she wrapped her legs tightly around him. She was the one who wriggled her panties off from under her skirt, and  _she_  reached for the button to his jeans. 

The thing is, it’s Astrid. She throws herself into everything. Leaps without looking. What if she regrets everything the minute she opens her eyes? Should he leave now and pretend none of it ever happened? Should he stay and risk a painfully awkward rejection in the morning? He could spare them both the uncomfortable morning-after discussion. 

Hiccup stands. And then sits again. And then stands back up and stares at the bathroom door. 

All he knows is that– drunk or sober– he wants to crawl back into that bed and wrap his arms around her. He wants a few more minutes of smelling her hair. He wants to stay in the in-between, the before and after, where everything is safe. 

Because if it comes down to him, he’ll choose the night before over and over again. But he has no way of knowing that she won’t take everything back in the morning. That she won’t be embarrassed and angry and push him away. 

He doesn’t know how, but he’ll have to trust her. 

Taking a breath, he reaches for the doorknob and ducks outside. Hiccup crosses the hallway and opens the guest room door. She’s still asleep, hand reaching across the empty space he left behind. He crawls across the bed and pulls her close to his chest one more time. 


End file.
